He’d almost killed her and the guilt and anger ate at him. What were these humans that they sent their women into battle? Barbaric. That’s what it was. Women were to be protected and revered. Not shot at and nearly killed in combat. Val shuddered to think of the stain he’d almost incurred on his soul. Killing a woman in battle was considered one of the most horrific sins among jit’suku warriors. It would have cost him his commission, had it been discovered, at the very least. As it was, his men were as horrified as he was. This strange woman had almost cost them all a grave price to their honor and their souls. “Have you nothing to say for yourself, woman?” Val demanded. He was so incensed that he wasn’t thinking clearly. And he’d yet to let go of the female’s soft hand. As soon as he realized that, he dropped her fragile hand as if it burned him. Her head cocked at an angle that he sensed meant trouble, though he’d seldom run afoul of a difficult female. Those few left in his family were all quite well behaved and if they ruled the home with an iron fist, they also filled it with love.
